


Buried Thoughts

by Singing_Violin



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 15:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1147404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Violin/pseuds/Singing_Violin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What did Chakotay hallucinate in "Persistence of Vision"?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buried Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters and universe are not mine.

At first, I thought perhaps she'd had one too many cups of coffee, but from the reports I was getting, it was becoming obvious that Captain Janeway was finally starting to crack, just a bit, under the stresses of leading our unruly bunch. Honestly, I was surprised it took this long, and I was relieved to hear that the doctor had ordered her to take some time off, because Spirits know she'd never do it voluntarily.

I was sorry to have to call her away to the bridge, but what I was thinking was that that alien weasel needed her touch. That is, she has an uncanny knack for negotiating with...well, creatures that don't want to be negotiated with. I didn't realize that the alien had something akin to realization of that metaphor in mind. If I had, well, I'm not sure what I would have done differently, but at least I would have known.

I admit that Neelix's offer to meet with her in the Mess Hall instead of her Ready Room was my idea. I've been observing her for more than a year now and when officers started coming to me with complaints, I knew exactly what was happening, and told each one of them what to do about it. She's a hell of a captain, but she needs a little prodding to take care of herself sometimes.

Maybe that's the price she pays, but I've often wished that I could do something...something other than my usual duties, I mean...to make her job easier. With her snapping at the crew and exhibiting all the signs of stress, this was my moment to shine, and I thought I did it admirably. I tried to smile, not smirk, when she looked around the bridge and saw every single face urging her to go to the Mess Hall. She either bought it, or was humoring me, because she gave me the sweetest smile back; I thought I would melt. And, foolishly, I thought that a meal and a little down time would make it all better. I'm sure I wouldn't have been so self-satisfied if I'd known.

When I heard she'd started hallucinating...really hallucinating, I must admit I was worried. But she was delirious when we'd encountered the spatial anomaly a few weeks ago, and she came out of that one, though she gave us all quite a scare for a while. I went to see her in Sickbay, fearing the worst, and found only a concerned captain, still trying to stay on top of everything. As she rattled off instructions, I couldn't help but admire her tenacity, and found myself grinning again.

When I reminded her that her crew was capable and well-trained, she again flashed me that amazing smile, the one that turns my insides to warm mush. But, truth be told, I was still worried; I'd been told that she'd been panicked, on the verge of tears, and when I saw her so composed, I knew she was just burying it all inside.

What I didn't know was that I was burying something inside too.

When we were attacked, and, miraculously, she appeared on the bridge, asserting to the alien that she was fine, I was practically in awe, not to mention relieved, because I wasn't getting anywhere with this creature.

I never did look at the screen, because I was too busy watching her. Had I ever noticed how beautiful she was? I didn't think so.

Then, as bridge officers began to succumb, one by one, she ordered me to Engineering and I entered the turbolift with every intention of making it there to help B'Elanna.

I'd only been in the turbolift for a few seconds when she entered after me, looking...frightened. That should have been my cue to ignore her, but I was expecting it; I knew what she'd been going through and I was just waiting for her to fall apart. I should have had more faith.

"Captain," I asked, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, "but the bridge crew..." Her voice trailed off then, and I heard the worry in it. "They've all succumbed."

Then she looked at me with big eyes, full of trust and vulnerability. "Oh, Chakotay!" she cried as she threw herself into my arms.

"Computer, halt turbolift," I ordered, my first thought being to protect her privacy.

She held me tightly, and I could hardly think; she'd never once hugged anyone that I could recall, and it felt amazing to have this strong, independent woman finally trusting me. "We'll get through this," I heard myself say over her shoulder as I rubbed her back.

I kissed her hair and held her, and suddenly I was aware that I was supporting her entire weight, slight as it was. So I eased her down to the floor, and there we sat, intertwined, her head on my shoulder.

I should have known.

The next thing I knew, I was standing up again, blinking, and she was beside me. Her communicator beeped. "Kes to Captain Janeway. If you can hear me, please report to Engineering."

She gave me a curt nod, and I knew I was needed back on the bridge. It was just as well, because I could practically feel my cheeks gaining color as I realized that the Captain Janeway in my arms had been an illusion.

In her Ready Room a few hours later, I couldn't resist. "Captain," I asked, "what did the alien make you see?"

She gave me a strange look then, probably wondering why I was asking. "I saw Mark," she admitted. For a moment, I thought she was going to add something, but then she seemed to change her mind. "What did you see?" she asked me.

I was deeply disappointed. "I saw my father," I lied, and she half-nodded at me in response. I wondered whether she suspected my deception, but she didn't press me.

"I guess I'm just glad he's gone now," I said, trying to fill the silence with something to prevent her from asking me more questions. Then I realized that what I'd just said could have been interpreted wrong, and I added, "the alien, I mean...not my father."

That made her smile. Not the bright smile that warms me from the inside, but a small smile of amusement that reminded me that she was fine, and not likely to be snapping at the crew again anytime soon.

I guess some thoughts really are meant to stay buried.


End file.
